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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804652">You Stink</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1'>Womble1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Borrowed OC, Captain Pirate Bear, Cross Country Running, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Selene invaded, Swimming, all types of exercise hell, bleep tests, fully expecting backlash, its all my fault, not sorry, scented candles, someone get Virgil a coffee, sorry - Freeform, stupid o'clock in the morning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:00:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Womble1/pseuds/Womble1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Boys can be competitive. No wait, that's a sweeping gender stereotype, correction, Tracy boys  can be competitive. So the following outcome should have come as a surprise to no one. </p><p>Very loosely based off a prompt of "Pirates"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Selene Tempest/John Tracy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Stink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boys can be competitive. No wait, that's a sweeping gender stereotype, correction, Tracy boys  can be competitive. So the following outcome should have come as a surprise to no one. </p><p>It was time for some mandatory training, which, since it was Scotts turn to run them through their paces, meant there was a heavy leaning towards bleep tests, sprints and HIIT. Something about keeping up their agility and basic fitness. Frankly, they had started at God-awful o’clock, so nobody had really been listening. Starting off in the pool had at least got Gordon on side, and the cold of the early morning water had woken everyone up, as was evident by the shouting. They were meant to be completing a mile, but in truth they all just flopped out of the water as soon as Gordon completed the mile. Alan was tottering about like his legs were made of jelly, and Virgil declared that Alan needed feeding before any more of “Scott’s sadistic tourture”. If he just happened to get a large coffee at the same time, then that was a happy bonus. </p><p>Suitably refueled, Scott herded his little brothers and Kayo out again for a bit of cross country running around the island. Now, Scott could easily outstrip them, but he had made that mistake before and his brothers had just turned around and gone back to the house. But he did lose sight of Kayo when Alan stopped to tie his laces, and if she just happened to be back at the pool before them nobody was going to suggest she had taken a shortcut. Likewise, when she got called away by Lady Penelope on “urgent business” that coincidently meant she had to duck out of the rest of the afternoon, well, same category, best not to mention. </p><p>The rest of them could think of no such excuses and once Alan's glucose levels had once again topped up and he had stopped whimpering they were onto the next thing. Bleep tests on the beach, apparently in Scotts deranged mind, laps of the Island were the perfect warm up for sprinting. Virgil seriously considered putting some sort of sedative in Scotts water bottle, but it seemed unethical, and then Scott had thrown down a challenge suggesting that maybe Virgil couldn't cope without his exo suit. Cocky little flyboy, he was going down! A similar gauntlet was thrown at John by suggesting he might need a sit down if gravity was getting a bit much. John was going to wipe the dimples off Scott’s smug face, let battle commence. </p><p>They started off, all trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism, but it didn’t take long before the insults started flying.</p><p>“What are you guys waiting for? A Zimmer frame? Your pensioner's bus passes?” Gordon cried as he bounced ahead of the older three. Alan did his best to copy Gordon, but ended up looking like Bambi on ice, but what he lacked in grace he made up for in youthful exuberance. John was pure cool determination, he was pacing himself precisely, eyes on the prize. Virgil was doggedly keeping pace with the long legged space noodle. He had seen that look in John's eyes, and knew how to play his odds, with any luck the littlies would distract Scott and throw him off. </p><p>Soon it all started taking its toll, which at least stopped the cat calling, and they all raced to keep up. Sweat was dripping, sand was flying there was grunting and dare we say it: wheezing. Alan had started windmilling his arms and, as everyone knows,  it's only a short step from that to dropping out of the running. He flopped down on the sand and log rolled himself out of the way of his still stampeding brothers. Who obviously hooted and jeered at their fallen comrade. </p><p>“Ugh you guys suck!” he groaned, as sand stuck to his sweaty face. </p><p>Virgil didn't manage to hold on for much longer, and what he did manage was probably only due to bloody-mindedness. But that could only hold out for so long and eventually he gave up and collapsed on the ground next to Alan wheezing something about muscle mass and lanky streamline bastards. There was less jeering this time as the three remaining runners fought to keep up. </p><p>All joking was gone as they each focused on breathing and running. Gordons little seen serious side made itself known with a perfect display of his finely tuned competitive streak. In the end, however, he was just getting outpaced by those same lanky bastards who had already run his wingman off the road. He lost his rhythm in his last ditch attempt to stay in the game. That had him tottering, then colliding with John who in turn tumbled into Scott. It was messy, there were arms and legs in all directions, a shower of gritty sand got sprayed into the air. Somebody squealed, several somebodies got simultaneously squashed. When the literal dust settled Virgil and Alad had to help untangle the rats nest of limbs. </p><p>“Ok, I call it on medical grounds, we’re done here.” Virgil announced, pulling up one spaceman by a very wobbly arm, whilst Alan tried to tug Scott up to this full height of his quivering legs. They all made it back to the lounge, they had intended to go for showers, but somehow never made it, instead all dozing on the couches after the exertions and early start that morning. </p><p>And this was how Selene found them. Sprawled across various armchairs and sofas, and in Alan's case: the floor. But the first thing that struck her was the smell. Usually, on the whole they were a fairly clean bunch. Ok, so Virgil could get mucky standing still, but that was usually just engine oil or paint and didn’t result in this kind of aroma. Sure Alan veered into grotty teenager realms occasionally, but Scotts fastidious grooming usually kept the average respectable. However, on this occasion, they appeared to have all simultaneously pushed the limits on the effectiveness of antiperspirants. She feared for the soft furnishings, the boys were filthy and sweaty and frankly more than a little offensive on the nose. There were still gentle snores coming from the filth pile as Selene stealthily lit every single scented candle she could find. </p><p>The boys were, on the whole, rather uninventive and had been buying Grandma scented candles for mothers day for years. Try as she might, Grandma never seemed to be able to get through the volume of candles before the next gift buying occasion rolled around. So yes, the scents were all going to clash, those tropical fruit scents not blending with the bergamot or lily of the valley, but it was much better than the alternative. </p><p>All available candles had been lit, and Selene was just starting to worry about the fire alarms getting triggered when Grandma joined her.</p><p>“Oh my, I should have taken that bet with Brains, they really got carried away again.” she sniffed “Oh gosh, it smells like a football locker room in here,” here she glanced at Selene, “and no you may not ask how I know that. Sometimes I think they should just get hosed down outside, it would save the furniture.” Selene's eyes lit up at that suggestion, Grandma raised and eyebrow “no, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what you're thinking, some things ought to be kept private”</p><p>“Wha- No! I just had an idea. I need marker pens, gaffa tape and cardboard.” she said with a flourish.</p><p>15 mins later and the preparations were complete and the sweaty mess inhabiting the lounge had still not shown signs of life. Selene grabbed one last item from where she knew it was hidden in Gordons room. </p><p>“Ready Grandma?” she got an affirmative nod from Sally who was standing by the doors holding a cardboard sign with an arrow on it. </p><p>“3,2,1 -” she pressed the trigger on the air horn, and was slightly shocked at how much noise it made, but hey, it did the trick. Arms and legs were flying, muffled grunts and thuds announced bodies hitting the floor and one yelp came from Alan head butting the coffee table.</p><p>“RIIIIIIGHT!” Selene put on her best drill sergeant voice, “ Rescue Practice! This is a speed test! Follow the signs, save the victim, get back here first! GOT IT? - THEN GO GO GO!” she waved her arm towards Grandma to get them started before anyone had a chance to question what was going on. The sound of 5 sets of trainers thundering out on the hardwood floors marked the success of stage one. Grandma whipped out a bottle of fabreeze and set to work liberally dousing the soft furnishings.</p><p>They had set up arrow signs in a zigzag course that eventually led to the beach. Grandma and Selene took the much gentler route and arrived in plenty of time to see a wild pack of Tracys emerge from the treeline, now with a few added twigs and leaves upon their persons. Bobbing a little way out in the sea was an inflatable lilo tethered to a lifebuoy. Captain Pirate Bear, a recent addition to the claw machine prize winnings stash, was duct taped to it at a jaunty angle, his sword raised. </p><p>“Come on boys,” Grandma bellowed “Save that bear! He’s counting on you” furiously focused on the task of beating their brothers, all five stormed into the water, kicking up spray in all directions. There may have been some foul play as a few people suspiciously lost their footing and sprang back up spluttering profanities. The resident water baby made it to the improvised raft first and held his prize aloft looking immensely smug.</p><p>“Hang on Squid,” said Scott, “she said first one back, you’ve got to keep hold of that yet” and there was definitely something menacing in his look. Gordon Squawked as the lilo he was perched on was flipped over, depositing him back in the surf. It only served as a springboard though, and he glided under the waves, the bear tucked to his chest while the others scrambled to chase after him. </p><p>As the splashing reached the shoreline Selene and Grandma made a swift retreat back towards the villa, hoping that the boys squabbles would give them both enough time to make it back before them. </p><p>The usually professional international rescue operatives were now in full scrap mode. Little known shortcuts were used, full body tackles deployed and even a few trees were climbed in an attempt to take or maintain ownership of Captain Pirate bear. The shouts accompanying it all sent the local wildlife scurrying away in fear. </p><p>When they came barrelling into the living area once again, it was Alan who had final possession of the prize. His face was nearly 90% smug grin as he had managed to snatch it off Scott with a rather cunning ambush in the last stretch. </p><p>Selene was pleased to see that the quick dip in the waves had gone some way to clearing off the muck, but their exertions on the way back to the villa might have undone much of the good work. She sighed, it had been worth a shot and at least they were up and moving now.</p><p>“Right you lot, showers! You stink!” </p><p>Gordon gave her a grin that was far too much teeth, and tried to come in for a hug.</p><p>“Oh no you don’t, beast of foulness,” she said as she backed away from his open arms, only to be caught from behind in a massive Virgil sized bear hug “aggh! It was a trap! Gerrroff me! You’re soggy and you stink!”</p><p>She was released to the sound of chuckling and watched as Virgil and Gordon High-fived on their way off to the bedrooms, and hopefully, the showers. Two down, she thought with relief as she rounded on the remaining mess. </p><p>Alan had flopped down onto the floor still hugging the bear like he thought someone might still try and take it. Grandma prodded him gently with the toe off her boot. </p><p>“Come on champ, you can't stay here, you’re leaving a puddle, or would you like me to fix you a snack first?” it was said sweetly, but Alan took it for the threat it was and quickly found his feet and fled to his room. Sally dusted her hands off in triumph and turned her attention to Scott, who looked to be shuffling towards the desk with a bottle of water.</p><p>“I’ve got this one, you ok to handle the last one?” she asked nodding towards John who was sat on the floor of the balcony apparently basking like a cat in the sun. </p><p>“All on it!” came the reply as Selene bounded off to claim her prize.</p><p>“Right young man,” said Grandma, turning her attention back to her eldest grandson. “Where do you think you’re going?”</p><p>“I was just going to quickly check -”</p><p>“Nope, try again,” there were folded arms and a tapping foot, Scott knew the odds were not in his favor, but he tried one last roll of the dice and engaged puppy dog eyes and dimples - all or nothing he figured. “Nope, still not going to work, there's no way you're sitting on the furniture in your current state. You are more than a little ripe my boy, and your trainers are squelching, so do us all a favour and go wash” Scott looked down at his running shoes, she had a point. He let out one huff, just on principle and trudged off to his room, a tentative sniff confirmed she was right about the prevailing odor, and he hastened his steps.  </p><p>“Come on spaceman, time to get you cleaned up” Selene went to grab John under his armpits to drag him up, but instantly regretted it. He didn't seem to notice how she flinched away, his eyes still closed and chin tilting towards the sun. </p><p>“Now there's an offer” he said slightly dreamily, one eyebrow raised. </p><p>“Yes, well, you’re still going to have to get yourself moving because there is far too much astronaut for one witch to shift here.” taking a leaf out of Grandma's book, she prodded his thigh tentatively with one flipfloped foot, grimacing slightly as wet fabric caught her toe. Still no movement, well, big guns it was to be then. Hands were placed on hips, one foot set a furious tapping. This caused Johns lips to curve into a smile and he risked cracking one eye open to look down at the toes dancing next to him, the metallic purple polish catching in the sunlight. </p><p>“Thats it loverboy, and the other eye, and then start using those legs” She could see he was getting distracted and was likely to drift off again if left to his own devices. </p><p>John rolled himself onto his hands and pushed himself up with a grunt that would have gained Scott so many old man jokes if he had voiced it. He went to drape an arm over Selene's shoulder for support and general cuddliness, but she darted out from under with a surprising display of agility, calling behind her as she raced off to their room.</p><p>“Come on, keep up!” spurred on by the sight of her retreating her backside, John jogged along in her wake. As he got to the door of their room he came face to face with an industrial sized bottle of air freshener, being brandished like a weapon. </p><p>“I love you darling, but there's no way in hell those clothes are coming in here untreated, there are not enough incense sticks in the world to cover that full on boy smell you're all rocking today, hold still” and she frantically started squooshing him with something that claimed to be linen fresh, but just resulted in making him sneeze. </p><p>“Aggh, enough, just let me have a shower” his hands held in front of him in an attempt to defend himself from the fresh scented onslaught. He was eventually successful in making his way into the ensuite and locking the door.</p><p>“And you're taking that lot straight to the laundry room, don’t leave it to fester in the laundry basket!” she shouted through the door, the sound of the spray bottle still audible as she gave the room a general misting just to be safe.</p><p>“I thought you said that I always, and I quote here, ‘smell delicious’” he said through the door as he peeled off the offending sports kit.</p><p>“You did air quotes when you said that didn’t you” she said</p><p>“Maybe…” the sulky tone somewhat dampened by the door panels.</p><p>“I am being misquoted and you know it.” her voice was raised in outrage “I am sure you are still delicious, but right now it's very well hidden under “eau de boys kit bag”, although I will defend you to the death if any of your brothers should suggest such a thing. But I have my limits, so wash, you absolute grott bag!”</p><p>10 minutes later, and feeling a lot more refreshed, John emerged from the steam filled bathroom. Selene was sat reading on the bed, but looked up hopeful of catching a glimpse of some spaceman pecks. What she wasn't counting on was the balled up t-shirt and shorts that were thrown at her head.</p><p>“Aggh, what was that for?” she batted the offensive fabric away from her</p><p>“That,” he replied quite calmly, “was for suggesting that I stink.” </p><p>“Well to be honest my darling, it was more of statement than a suggestion,” she wafted her hand in an attempt to clear the air of the prevailing aroma, only to be caught off guard as a pair of pants were similarly launched at her. </p><p>“Aggghhhhh! How Dare You!”</p><p> </p><p>Shockingly, despite much squealing, none of the other inhabitants of the house felt the need to investigate the cause of the ruckus, decreeing that some things you were just best off not knowing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This set out to be a piece with Grandma bossing the boys about, but some how a certain Witch made her presence know. Its probably got something to do with suggesting any of them smell  which drew her in to battle. </p><p>In my defense, it is extenuating circumstances, I do assume that on a normal day they are all fresh as roses. </p><p>Also it was inspired by the comment that it had been a week since Alan had a bath, so he was the stinky inspiration</p></blockquote></div></div>
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